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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25827721">Forgiven</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleSeeds/pseuds/AppleSeeds'>AppleSeeds</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angel Healing, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley's Flat (Good Omens), First Kiss, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, Mentioned Ligur (Good Omens), Missing Scene, One Shot, Post-Apocalypse, Swearing, The Night At Crowley's Flat (Good Omens), Wing Grooming, Wingfic, Wings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:47:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,912</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25827721</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleSeeds/pseuds/AppleSeeds</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The night after Armageddidn't, Crowley is having trouble with his wings and Aziraphale helps him, with unexpected consequences.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale &amp; Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>248</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Forgiven</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Make yourself at home,” Crowley called over his shoulder as he shrugged off his jacket and threw it over the back of what Aziraphale supposed you could call a chair, but was actually more of a throne. Aziraphale stood rigid, rubbing his fingers together and casting his eyes around the room. He’d never been to Crowley’s flat before. It had always seemed something forbidden, entering the private domain of a demon, although if he was honest with himself that had only served to make the prospect even more tantalising. He was mildly disappointed to realise it was hardly anything like he had imagined, casting judgement on the extent of his understanding of Crowley’s character. That said, he’d only seen one room so far. There was bound to be a kingsize bed with black silk sheets somewhere.</p>
<p>Aziraphale’s attention was drawn to a patch of... well, <em>goo</em>, on the floor. “Come on, angel. You worried about entering into a demon’s private lair?” Aziraphale’s head snapped up to meet Crowley’s eyes, now devoid of sunglasses, which he’d discarded on the table. How closely Crowley’s comment mirrored his thoughts from moments ago was unnerving. He managed a nervous chuckle.</p>
<p>“Of course not, my dear, I was just... what <em>is</em> this?” Aziraphale gestured to the puddle of goo. Crowley narrowed his eyes and tilted his head as he stepped back across the room towards Aziraphale.</p>
<p>“Ah... uh... yeah. Had to call in my insurance policy.” Crowley’s face broke into a smirk. “Did you ever meet my colleague, Ligur?” The smirk widened into a grin, but Aziraphale didn’t consider this to be a laughing matter.</p>
<p>“I do hope you were careful.” The grin fell from Crowley’s face, as he raised his eyebrows and his mouth hung slightly open, studying Aziraphale, who squirmed a little under his scrutiny. Aziraphale crouched down to the floor under the pretence of inspecting the goo, but more to put some distance between them as his heart beat faster and his skin tingled. “I told you that holy water would destroy a demon completely,” he mumbled.</p>
<p>“Yeah, you did. I was counting on it, but thanks for the angelic confirmation,” Crowley replied lightly, but Aziraphale’s expression was still serious, his fingertips hovering over the goo but not quite touching it.</p>
<p>“They could do this to <em>you</em>.” Aziraphale’s voice caught. The entire world was theirs, they were on their own side, but how long before it would be taken away from them? He didn’t dare let too much hope of this new world, and his and Crowley’s place in it, fill his heart. Crowley pushed out a long breath.</p>
<p>“Don’t suppose Agnes Nutter had any ideas for surviving....?” he gestured towards the goo and waved his hand around hopelessly, not actually saying the words.</p>
<p>“From what I recall, none of her prophecies were particularly straightforward. We really should start thinking about what this one might mean,” Aziraphale said, rising from the ground and pulling the slightly singed prophecy out of his pocket.</p>
<p>“Yeah, sure, angel, but I’m gonna get some sleep first. If there’s ever been a day that warrants indulging in sleep, it’s this one.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale’s treacherous heart beat even faster and other parts of his body joined in the betrayal, hearing Crowley’s words as a temptation, not just an announcement of his intention to sleep but an invitation to join him. He froze, rigid once more, wondering whether Crowley could have intended his words to be interpreted that way. The flat was sparsely furnished, if Aziraphale did decide to, as Crowley put it, <em>indulge in sleep</em>, the only logical place to do it would be Crowley’s bed. Again, Crowley was tilting his head, evidently awaiting a response.</p>
<p>“Oh, of course, you should get some sleep, my dear.”</p>
<p>Crowley pulled a face, and Aziraphale felt every muscle in his body tense as he rejected the unhelpful notion suggested by his brain that Crowley might have been disappointed with his response. He never wanted to disappoint Crowley. His hands clenched into fists, there just wasn’t enough time to process everything he was feeling, all of the thoughts whirling around inside his mind, everything that had happened, everything that might happen... On the bus ride back to Crowley’s flat his mind had gone uncharacteristically blank, and his heart had glowed with relief and the warmth that radiated through it as Crowley had taken his hand and held on to it throughout the journey.</p>
<p>“Can’t persuade you to join me?” Crowley murmured, and Aziraphale’s heart seemed to explode. He took his hand to his chest in an attempt to calm it.</p>
<p>“Join you?” Aziraphale had no control over how the words came out of his mouth and was horrified to hear the dismissive, disapproving tone that crept in, too well-practised over the centuries. <em>Don’t push him away, not again, not now</em>, he urged himself.</p>
<p>“You’re telling me you’re up for every earthly pleasure except sleep?”</p>
<p>Oh, how to respond to <em>that</em>? Aziraphale rubbed his fingertips against his palms, sore from his fingernails digging into them. He so badly wanted to believe that Crowley wanted him to say yes, that whilst he may have rejected the invitation to sleep, all other earthly pleasures were on the table. <em>On the table</em>... His eyes flickered over to the long table by the throne chair, and his mind betrayed him again with images he shouldn’t indulge in, what he’d like to do with Crowley on that table... Aziraphale turned back to Crowley, mouth moving slightly but no sound emerging.</p>
<p>“My bed’s really comfortable, angel.” Aziraphale’s mind begged Crowley to stop this torture. It was no surprise the demon had developed such a good, well... <em>bad</em>, reputation for his skills of temptation. “I have standards too, you know,” he teased.</p>
<p>“Ah, well, yes, I’m sure you do.”</p>
<p>“Then take the bed, I don’t need it. I can sleep anywhere. Wall, ceiling... coiled up ‘round the table leg once,” he grinned, his eyes now drifting to where Aziraphale’s had moments earlier, the nature of the images in his mind as he looked at the table undoubtedly more innocent than Aziraphale’s had been.</p>
<p>Aziraphale’s eyes were stinging with unshed tears. He was making such a mess of this. Had Crowley never been tempting him at all? Had this whole conversation been completely innocent? Had he really just meant to offer Aziraphale a space to rest and sleep, alone, after the day they’d had? Or had Crowley been testing, pushing a little further to see what response he would get? After all, it was always Crowley pushing the boundaries in their friendship, and Aziraphale pushing back. Pushing him away. Is that what had just happened? The thudding of his heart was so powerful it felt like something lodged in his throat. He coughed to try to clear it.</p>
<p>“Well, I do rather think one of us ought to stay alert, you know, in case...” Aziraphale suggested, with more gesturing to the demon goo staining the floor.</p>
<p>“Suit yourself, angel.” Just before he turned away to head to the bedroom, Crowley began unbuttoning his shirt, and Aziraphale followed the movement of his fingers, enraptured. “G’night.”</p>
<p>“Goodnight, Crowley,” Aziraphale mumbled to Crowley’s back at his walked away.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale indulged himself in a quick and quiet tour of the parts of Crowley’s flat he could explore without fear of waking his friend. He even smoothed his fingertips over the table to memorise the feel of it, adding a new dimension of realism to the fantasies he really shouldn’t be having. He knew he needed something to occupy himself, a distraction from the torment of <em>could be, shouldn’t be, would have been, could have been, can’t be, won’t be</em> that whirled inside his mind like a tornado. Normally he would try to read, but there were no books to be found in Crowley’s flat, and he didn’t dare perform any miracles now.</p>
<p>So instead, he decided to make himself useful. He pulled on a pair of thick, black gloves that he found, and got to work cleaning up the remains of Crowley’s former colleague.</p>
<p>“What in Satan’s name are you doing?” Aziraphale had just about managed to find some semblance of peace, scrubbing at the floor in an almost meditative trance, but that was rapidly ripped away from him the moment he heard Crowley’s voice. His head instinctively whipped around to the source of the sound, and the final remnants of calm were instantly sucked away.</p>
<p>Crowley was standing in the doorway, undressed to the waist, his stunning charcoal-black wings stretched out behind him. Aziraphale pushed his palms to the floor for support, his entire body trembling.</p>
<p>“Oh! Crowley! I thought you were sleeping?”</p>
<p>“Ngh... yeah... was. Kept waking up.” Crowley arched his back and reached around to adjust one of his wings. “Seriously, what <em>are</em> you doing?”</p>
<p>“Well, one can never be too careful. Even a trace of holy water could do you a great deal of harm.” Something flickered behind Crowley’s eyes but soon disappeared. He squirmed and reached back to his other wing.</p>
<p>“Coulda miracled it away?”</p>
<p>“I thought it best not to draw attention,” Aziraphale replied, narrowing his eyes as he watched Crowley squirming in the doorway and tugging at his wings. “Are you all right?”</p>
<p>“These bloody wings!” Crowley groaned, and for the first time since they’d entered the flat, Aziraphale smiled, amused by Crowley’s serpentine wriggling. He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you know what it’s like! Like unpacking a box and then trying to fit everything back in. Never does. Hadn’t had them out for <em>years</em> before today. Can’t get them to fold up right... arrgghh... nghhh!”</p>
<p>Aziraphale indulged in another sin, a little pride glowing within him to realise that <em>he</em> wasn’t having this trouble after unfurling his wings today, and suspected the difference might have something to do with his meticulous wing care regime.</p>
<p>“Well, when was the last time you preened them?” Aziraphale asked, amusement and perhaps a little superiority gracing his voice.</p>
<p>“You’re kidding, right? We’ve spent the last eleven years trying to avert the apocalypse and you reckon I should’ve been dedicating more time to <em>wing care</em>?”</p>
<p>“So, eleven years then?” Aziraphale concluded smugly.</p>
<p>“Ngh,” Crowley shrugged, and Aziraphale wondered whether it might actually have been longer.</p>
<p>“Well I suggest you get on with it. They’re not going to sort themselves out.”</p>
<p>Crowley’s face dropped and Aziraphale suspected there was more to his reluctance.</p>
<p>“Right, yeah. I’ll get on it. Back to bed, then. Goodnight, angel.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale furrowed his brow, attempting not to be distracted by the glorious sight of Crowley, shirtless, slinking back to his bedroom. Even in the low light he could make out the poor state of Crowley’s wings. After a few moments he tugged off the black gloves, his concern for his friend overpowering his apprehension, and followed Crowley to his bedroom. The door was open, but Aziraphale knocked quietly to alert Crowley to his presence before he poked his head round. He felt around for the light switch, still concerned about performing frivolous miracles right now.</p>
<p>As his fingers found their target the bright light filled the room. Crowley groaned loudly into his pillow. He was lying face down, sprawled out over what turned out not to be a king size, but in fact a <em>super</em> king size bed, wings held loosely on either side of his body. The sheets weren’t the black that Aziraphale had suspected, but instead a shade of grey, which was indeed much more appropriate.</p>
<p>“Aziraphale,” Crowley grumbled. “I know you don’t choose to sleep but even <em>you</em> must know that darkness is a key facilitator of it.”Aziraphale ignored his comment.</p>
<p>“You’re not preening,” he observed.</p>
<p>“And thanks to you I’m not <em>sleeping</em>, either.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale sighed heavily.</p>
<p>“What?” Crowley grumbled, rolling his head over to the side to look at the angel.</p>
<p>“It really isn’t such...” Aziraphale began, fidgeting with his hands. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, it would be easier for me to just...” and then he was sitting on the bed, his hands reaching towards Crowley’s wings.</p>
<p>“Aggngh! SHIT!” Crowley sucked in a breath and leapt up as soon as Aziraphale’s fingertips brushed his feathers, scrambling up on to all fours. He backed away and crouched on the corner of the bed, pulling his wings tightly behind him.</p>
<p>“Oh, I’m sorry my dear, I didn’t mean to startle you.”</p>
<p>“You can’t just go around sticking your hands on a guy’s wings without warning, Aziraphale!”</p>
<p>“Well, if you refuse to do it...” Aziraphale reasoned, trying desperately to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. This hadn’t been the reaction he’d been hoping for when he had finally reached out to Crowley. Crowley rolled his eyes. This time, Aziraphale allowed the whisper of hope to make itself known. Crowley had said <em>without warning</em>, he hadn’t asked him not to touch his wings at all. “You have ample warning this time,” Aziraphale murmured, waiting a moment to give Crowley the opportunity to tell him not to proceed, but some of the tension released from Crowley’s body, and he sank down on to his knees, spreading his wings out once again.</p>
<p>Aziraphale bent down to take off his shoes before clambering up on to the bed and shuffling to sit behind Crowley. He tentatively placed his fingers on Crowley’s feathers, seeing his friend’s body tense, but when Crowley didn’t move away he pressed a little harder, taking one feather between his fingers at the base. Crowley hissed and flinched, pulling away from him again. Aziraphale retracted his fingers, clenching his hands back into fists. His wings had never been groomed by someone else, but he had always imagined it would be a rather pleasant experience. A <em>very</em> pleasant experience if the hands carding through his feathers belonged to a certain demon, as he allowed himself to visualise during most of his preening sessions. He no longer felt justified being so smug about his high standards of wing care when he forced himself to acknowledge it was merely another excuse to fantasise about Crowley’s hands on his body.</p>
<p>“Am I doing something wrong?” Aziraphale croaked.</p>
<p>“For fuck’s sake, angel, it <em>hurts</em>!” The thoughts that passed through Aziraphale’s mind and their implications were almost too much to bear.</p>
<p>“Bec... because... I’m... an angel?”</p>
<p>“No! It’s not <em>you</em>! It hurts when<em> I</em> touch them, damned wings!” Aziraphale picked up on his pointed choice of words.</p>
<p>“Let me see.”</p>
<p>“Angel...”</p>
<p>“Please, Crowley.”</p>
<p>Crowley turned fully around, giving Aziraphale complete access to his wings. Despite his anguish, Aziraphale felt a burst of warmth in his chest as Crowley’s actions revealed how much he trusted him. Aziraphale gently, tenderly lifted a few feathers, looking for an explanation for Crowley’s pain. And then he saw the scars, and worse, the unhealing wounds, in the skin beneath the feathers.</p>
<p>“Oh... Crowley. Why have you never said anything?” Crowley shuffled himself around to look at Aziraphale.</p>
<p>“Not exactly something you talk about.”</p>
<p>“But I could have helped you,” Aziraphale murmurs, heartbroken by the knowledge that his best friend had been experiencing this pain for over 6000 years, since his fall from heaven. “I <em>can</em> help you.” Aziraphale reached out again, but this time Crowley pulled away before he got too close.</p>
<p>“Don’t touch me,” Crowley pleaded.</p>
<p>“I’ll be careful.”</p>
<p>“Please don’t touch me,” Crowley repeated.</p>
<p>“I won’t, my dear.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale held his hands over Crowley’s feathers, close, but not touching, just as he had promised. His desire to avoid miracles tonight had come only from wanting to keep them safe and not draw attention to themselves, but that was irrelevant now, seeing how much Crowley was suffering. He drew on his heavenly power, sweeping his hands over Crowley’s wings, knitting together wounds and fading scars as he went. Crowley collapsed down on to his stomach and sighed, releasing thousands of years and tension and pain.</p>
<p>“Angel...”</p>
<p>When Aziraphale had finished healing him, Crowley moved to sit up.</p>
<p>“Stay where you are, Crowley,” Aziraphale murmured, placing a gentle but firm hand on the back of his neck to hold him down. “I’m going to preen you now.”</p>
<p>It was better than all of Aziraphale’s fantasies put together. Crowley melted into the bed, moaning and sighing with pleasure as Aziraphale worked his way methodically through his wings, smoothing all of his feathers into place. There was a momentary flash of envy, Aziraphale hoping that one day Crowley might return the favour, but mostly he was overwhelmed with his own pleasure, Crowley freely displaying the effect his touch was having on him and putting his trust in Aziraphale completely. Crowley sucked in a breath as Aziraphale’s touch became lighter, his hands skimming tenderly over the flesh at the base of Crowley’s wings. Tears formed in Aziraphale’s eyes, but he blinked them back.</p>
<p>“Well, then, I believe we’re all done here,” Aziraphale announced, shuffling away to sit on the side of the bed. Crowley gave one last contented sigh before pushing himself up into a seated position, pulling out one of his wings so he could inspect his feathers.</p>
<p> “You really are a miracle worker,” he smiled.</p>
<p>“Well, yes, it is in the job description.”</p>
<p>“Before... you know, before Armageddon... when you said you forgive me. Did you mean it?”</p>
<p>“Of course I did. If there’s anything to forgive, that is. I’d say that’s open for debate.”</p>
<p>Their eyes locked for a moment too long, Aziraphale’s heart once again threatening to leap out of his throat, so he gulped it back down and stared down at his hands, clasped tightly together in his lap. Crowley, however, was always good at diffusing tension and changing the subject when the situation called for it, and this time was no different.</p>
<p>“Angel? What were you wearing those gloves for? It’s not like the holy water could have hurt you.”</p>
<p>“Well, it’s what humans do when they’re cleaning. But... oh yes! Crowley, you’re right!” Aziraphale pulled the prophecy out of his pocket and leaned back on the bed, brandishing it at his friend. His eyes widened, waiting for Crowley to reach the same realisation that he had. They might survive this after all.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“Shut your stupid mouth and die already.”</p>
<p>Rage burned through Crowley. He knew Gabriel was a wanker but seeing him now, talking like this to Aziraphale, the most loving, caring, angel, who had been charged with protecting humanity and was now meant to be punished, <em>destroyed</em> no less, for doing just that... it made his blood boil. Oh well, it would all be worth it to see the smug look wiped off Gabriel’s face when he stepped into the hellfire...</p>
<p>“Argh! Shit! What in Satan’s name?” Crowley-as-Aziraphale squealed as he touched the hellfire, backing off quickly.</p>
<p>“Aziraphale, you’re testing my patience.”</p>
<p>“No. Nonononononono, this is a mistake.”</p>
<p>“The mistakes have already been made and I can assure you, they were all yours.”</p>
<p>“No, you don’t understand. It <em>burns</em>!”</p>
<p>“It’s <em>hellfire</em>, Aziraphale.”</p>
<p>“Well, yes, but...” Gabriel rolled his eyes and cast a glance at Uriel and Sandalphon, shaking his head.</p>
<p>“Step into the fire Aziraphale, or I will have the demon escort you into it.”</p>
<p>Eric perked up at the prospect of a little more active involvement. A voice then boomed through heaven, and the face of the Metatron appeared before them.</p>
<p>“Stand down, Gabriel. This is not God’s will.”</p>
<p>“Who’s this guy?” Crowley questioned, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the giant floating head.</p>
<p>“I am the Metatron, Crowley.”</p>
<p>“Crowley,” Gabriel grunted, realisation dawning on him.</p>
<p>“What in hell’s name is going on?” Crowley stepped further away from the hellfire, gesturing widely. His eyes flicked from one angel to another, their expressions confused and, Crowley noted with some satisfaction, even intimidated. He glanced over to Eric, who was looking equally unsettled, and hoped that was thanks to realising he’d been dealing with Crowley, not Aziraphale, since he’d set foot in heaven. “Alright, look, yes, I’m Crowley, how scandalous of me to come to heaven and pretend to be an angel, but you know that means the hellfire shouldn’t hurt me, right?”</p>
<p>“You are not pretending to be an angel,” the Metatron boomed. “You have been forgiven by an angel. You have been healed by an angel. When you returned to heaven you were restored. You <em>are</em> an angel.”</p>
<p>“Aziraphale...” Gabriel scowled.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“Right, swap back then.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale and Crowley joined their hands and Aziraphale wiggled, pleased to be back in his own body. Not that it hadn’t been fun playing Crowley, and he was eager to tell his friend what had happened, especially when he had asked for a rubber duck. He grinned and looked over to Crowley, but something was different. He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses for a start, but it was more than that.</p>
<p>“Ah, Crowley...?” he began, and Crowley hummed. Aziraphale widened his eyes and leaned right in close to Crowley’s face. Crowley blinked and instinctively pulled back.</p>
<p>“Aziraphale....?”</p>
<p>“Your eyes,” Aziraphale murmured softly, leaning in even closer. Then suddenly, Crowley had snapped his fingers and they weren’t on the bench anymore. They were in Crowley’s bathroom, and Crowley was leaning in towards his own reflection in the mirror, pulling down gently at the skin beneath his eyes to get a better look at them. Aziraphale watched over his shoulder, staring into the reflection of beautiful, deep brown irises, flecked with gold. Crowley let his wings out, the small room barely containing his now glowing, bright white feathers.  “What happened up there?”</p>
<p>“Oh yeah, the Metatron appeared, told me I was an angel again,” Crowley said nonchalantly.</p>
<p>“Oh!” Aziraphale squeaked, reaching out to smooth his fingertips over a soft, white feather. “Are you... pleased?”</p>
<p>“D’ya know, I’m not bothered. Thought I would be but ’m not. I used to miss heaven and being an angel, but seeing what it’s like now...” he huffed out a breath. “I suppose I can say this now, that was part of the appeal of the Arrangement for me. Getting to perform miracles.” Aziraphale’s heart swelled at that. “But it doesn’t matter now. We’re still on our own side, angel. We don’t have to answer to anyone.”</p>
<p>“But why did this happen?” Aziraphale whispered, still smoothing a soft feather between his fingertips.</p>
<p>“Well, apparently,” Crowley closed the distance between them, tilting his head and leaning close to Aziraphale. Aziraphale released the feather he’d been smoothing and clasped his hands nervously in front of him. “This is all <em>your</em> doing. Forgiving me and healing me and all that.”</p>
<p>“Oh...!”</p>
<p>“I suppose it shows how much of an effect you have on me.” It was barely possible, but somehow Crowley reduced the space between them even more. Aziraphale’s well-trained instincts were telling him to step back to restore the distance, but he forced himself to hold still.</p>
<p>“The effect I have on you?” he choked, trembling from Crowley’s proximity and those beautiful piercing brown-gold eyes locked on his.</p>
<p>“I think we should see what else you can do to me.”</p>
<p>There was no room for misinterpretation this time, and Aziraphale leaned forward, pressing his lips to Crowley’s lightly and almost reverently until he felt Crowley respond, pressing the entire length of his body against Aziraphale and bringing his hands up into his hair to pull him closer. Aziraphale worked his hands into Crowley’s wings, pulling him tighter against him, eliciting a deep groan from Crowley as they separated just long enough for Aziraphale to murmur, “Gladly, my dear.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This has been rattling around in my head for a while but I definitely wanted to get across that it doesn't matter at all whether Crowley is an angel or a demon or anything else, he's just Crowley and Aziraphale will always love him. &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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